Times Long Past
by elderflower
Summary: A man. A marriage. A madness. Jocelyn finds some memories are not so easy to forget. Valentine/Jocelyn. Written before City of Glass, just in case.


**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Set just before City of Bones. Many thanks to the brilliant FairyKai for her wonderful betaing and all credit and praise to her for the title, among other things. You can find her in my favourite authors.**

Times Long Past

Sometimes when Clary was out, Jocelyn allowed herself to slip back to times long past.

To times when she didn't feel the need to look behind her while walking down the street, before she would peer cautiously through the crack between the curtains at the slightest bump in the night. Before she had spent a lifetime lying to her daughter to ensure history did not repeat itself.

Before she had run.

Back when purity wasn't a fixation, when power was neither a means nor an end, when love was not considered a weakness…

Jocelyn pulled her handmade quilt tighter around her and took another sip of tea. She knew it was dangerous to be reminiscing in such ways. She really couldn't afford to take any kind of risk.

But the memories seemed as impossible to escape as one's shadow.

She had known a time before the totalitarian Circle, before an obsession, when a monster was still a man…

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She had been alone in the dark drawing room, staring out the window with the moonlight pooling at her feet when she felt those familiar arms snake around her waist. She instinctively lent into the warmth of his broad chest behind her.

She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Do you know what day it is?" he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. She tried to suppress a shiver, not wanting him to know the effect he was having on her, but she could sense his smile. He knew exactly how to make her heart beat faster.

"It's my favourite day of the year," he continued.

She licked her lips and found her voice. "Is it really? I hadn't realised," she didn't bother to hide her own smile.

He growled low in her ear and her amusement grew. She loved the games they played.

"Don't lie to me, woman. You've been practically bouncing off the walls all day. I know you have something for me."

"You seem so sure of yourself," she bit back mockingly. He was going to have to work for this. Besides, since she was the only person he would allow to poke at his pride every now and then, she may as well use it to her advantage.

"You know I'm right. You're hiding something," he rested his chin on her shoulder and looked at her. She continued to gaze into the darkness.

"Well then, what are you going to do to get it?"

"Whatever it takes," he responded and began to press kisses down her neck and along her shoulder, setting her nerve endings on fire. Since the day they had met, the passion between them had not quelled.

"Alright! Alright! You can have it," she turned around, grinning widely, and looked up at his sharp features that would soften only for her. She noticed how the moonlight caught the fairness of his hair. It was like ash.

She bit her lip, still smiling and took his left hand in hers, swinging it slightly as he studied her curiously, before laying it on her stomach, her hand covering his.

She watched him carefully, waiting. Her smile faded slightly, nervous to what his reaction would be.

For the briefest moment, she felt her heart catch as his eyes widened in realisation. She shouldn't have sprung this on him so. She should have sat him down and told him, quietly and calmly. Wasn't that what normal couples did?

And then his face, which was always so carefully schooled and controlled, seemed to crack and he was grinning as wide as she.

"Are we? You don't mean to say…?"

All she could do was nod breathlessly.

"Oh, Jocelyn…"

"Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered, before he stepped forward and lowered his head towards hers, their hands tightly clasped, wedding bands glinting in the moonlight.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jocelyn jumped, shaken from her memory by a loud thump from downstairs. She laughed nervously, thinking of what Madame Dorothea must be doing to make such a racket so late at night.

Yes, it _was _late at night. Clary was staying at Simon's, she quickly reminded herself. There was no need to fret. Nevertheless, this was no time to be daydreaming.

The phone rang and Jocelyn eyed it warily before untangling herself from the blanket and her comfortable position on the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She picked the phone up from the cradle and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Jocelyn?"

She realised a silent breath of relief. Luke. Someone to tie her down to reality. This was definitely not the time for daydreams.

She honestly did not know what she would do without Luke. He was an instant reminder of all that had happened. What had seemed like perfection had been tainted by power and blood in the worst possible way. He was what assured her that, despite her treacherous, forgetful heart, she never wanted to go back there. To him.

While her heart continued to hold relentlessly onto those few, happy memories, she refused to let herself forget the years of pain, madness and deceit that had followed.

How could she? It was those years, and the man that her husband had become, that had led her to where she was today. That had forced her to create a new life as a mundane for the sake of her unborn child. For Clary.

That was all that mattered now.

Clary.

Though she tried to suppress it, though she had told Luke how much she hated Valentine and the thought of ever seeing him again chilled her to her core, every now and then the thought snuck into her head: what if she could change him?

It was total foolishness to even consider. Valentine was completely single minded. Nothing and no one would get in the way of his vision. Jocelyn had experienced the harshness of that first hand.

She had been confused at first when her husband had started to change. Niggles of alarm when he would not show up for days at a time and when he did, he was detached and distracted. She had taken to constantly talking to her unborn child, trying to forget the way her stomach dropped and she was suddenly filled with a lonely hollowness when Valentine looked straight through her. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. However, it was when an offhand comment regarding the rumours of the Accords made his face twist into a fury that not even she could soothe, that a jolt of fear shot through her. A fear that continued to tremble just below the surface for weeks. He had become completely cold and unpredictable and Jocelyn felt the sour taste of anxiousness and isolation.

She should have seen it coming. As Valentine became less of a man, the ideals of the Circle became more audacious and he cared little for anything else. The fact that Jocelyn was one of the things he had left behind made her want to close her eyes and think of something else other than the worthless feeling of being expendable.

But for some stupid reason, she continued to hope.

Because she had known the man before he had changed. Before his name had struck fear in the hearts of Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike. And once, though pain and bloodshed had flowed without shame or thought by her husband's own hands, once… he had loved her.


End file.
